Four Letter Words
by wordsempowerus
Summary: R5 finds a mysterious nameless girl when she is barely alive. She faced a terrible event that scarred her to the point of memory loss. Even to herself, she is a stranger. One thing that is known, four letter words are dangerous. In a journey to find herself and the truth, will she be able to overcome the past, or will it catch her before she can? Skip to ch4 for an update please!
1. Chapter 1: Save

**_Full Summary:_**

 **Hate, pain, hurt, kill. Love, hope, help, heal. These are just a few four-letter words, and they are all dangerous to this one nameless girl. She suffers through a terrible accident on her road to escape that makes her forget her entire life. The only thing she remembers is that she must hide. R5 finds this girl when she is barely alive and saves her. They take her in and against her better judgment she stays with them. In an attempt to help and protect her, they only put her and themselves in more danger. Her memories return slowly, but will that be quick enough? Will she find herself and the truth, or will her past catch them before she can? [OC]**

 **A/N: This is mainly a R5 fan fiction, but the Austin and Ally cast will appear later in the story.. (Raura is a must obviously XD) The story focuses on the OC and R5. There will be a relationship with the OC later but I'm not gonna spoil it.. Anyway here's the chapter.**

* * *

 _Chapter One:_

 _Save is a Four-Letter Word_

 _(Prologue)_

Heart pounding. Hands shaking. Whole body aching.

The world seems fuzzy, in a way. Not like you lack your prescription glasses, but as if you were in a daze. Nothing seemed defined, because there is too much unknown. Nothing seems familiar in this moment.

Water rose up and down in waves closing in on my body. The cold waves seemed to relax my muscles for a moment, but only a moment. After that, I had gone back to the way I was before, ready to run if need be.

Or so I thought, because even though there were unwelcome headlights that shined over me, I still remained frozen. There was now a high possibility of me being in someone's view, which was probably a bigger threat than the wild animals that could run out of the woods behind me and attack at any moment.

For people, whether good or bad, meant my existence would be known. In my state of shock, the water rose too high. The salty liquid filled my mouth.

But I did not dare to swim to the shore. In this moment of terrible judgment, I breathed it in by mistake, and the liquid filled my lungs. My body started sinking to the bottom of the lake. After what seemed like an eternity, my body hit the rocky floor. The lights seemed to go black after that.

* * *

Sometimes it feels like the end is near, and you have no chance to avoid the inevitable truth. In that moment, you start to accept it all. At least for me, as I was floating down in the water, I started to think, maybe just maybe, it would be one of the brighter ways to wrap up the story of my life.

But then my body rejected the thought. I started coughing, attempting to drain my lungs of water. I coughed out the lake water in success and could finally open my eyes. I didn't even want to be saved, but for some reason I survived.

I stared in the eyes of a rather hot male who was hovering over me. His straight hair was mainly bleach blonde swept to the side of his face. His hands were on the ground each by one of my shoulders.

My attraction to him soon wore off, and was replaced by fear. I knew he was the one to save my life, in a way. He was also the one who prolonged my pain, which really isn't relevant.

With caring eyes, he looked down on me. "Are you okay?" Three simple words but it was enough to change my mind about him. I now knew he was kind, simply by the tone of his voice and the choice of words.

I nodded barely; energy seemed to be completely drained from my body. He pushed himself up and held out a hand. I was swiftly pulled to my feet, but I didn't stay in that position for long. I fell down to a sitting position, and he looked down at me with an apologetic stare.

He then looked away from me for a second and reached inside his hoodie to grab his phone. He was about to call someone.

Kind people can be dangerous, and in a moment like this, he, though he seemed friendly and had previously restored me to a state of consciousness, was now more dangerous in my case than ever.

I quickly wrapped my thin, pale, shaky fingers around his wrist and looked up at him almost pleading. He stopped typing the three digits that would change my future for the worst. "Please," my voice cracked, and even to me seemed unrecognizable. I hesitated for a minute as his eyes met mine, "Don't call the police. Please."

He knelt down next to me. I suppose he knew I was too weak to do any harm to him, even though the chances of me being a criminal according to that one statement was very high in the eyes of a stranger. He was awaiting an explanation, one I could not give him.

I looked down at my feet for a moment, which were bare and covered in scrapes. I was attempting to mend my thoughts, but they remained scattered around like pieces to a large puzzle that was just dumped out of the box and awaited the presence of a kid to restore it to its correct state.

My memory was like a glass vase that had been dropped; I had no idea what went where and how to restore it. I was trying to put it back together, but everything was the same dark mass.

Nothing appeared through the darkness, no words, no faces, absolutely nothing.

How was I to give him an explanation I couldn't even give myself?

Rain began to pour down on the two of us, and I suppose the male, who was still just a stranger to me, decided it was best to wait on an answer.

My body starts to shake in the cold, and I wrap my arms around myself to attempt to keep in some warmth. The mysteriously nice man, who I had yet to be given a name of, slipped off his hoodie and handed it to me, which I gladly took and slid over my head.

It was an odd moment, because this was the first time that I could remember that I had actually been thankful for anything. He was the first person that was genuinely kind that I have meet in a while.

He sighed and slide his one arm under my knees, and the other behind my back. He swiftly pulled me to his chest and started to walk towards the headlights.

And in this moment, as I breathed in his minty clean scent, I finally felt safe for the first time, and I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

 _ **I do not own Austin and Ally or R5.**_

 **A/N: Sorry for the semi-short chapter.**

 **The length of the next chapter depends on how many reviews I get.**

 **Please review and let me know what you think :)**

 ** _-wordsempowerus_**


	2. Chapter 2: Weak

_Chapter Two:_

 _Weak is a Four-Letter Word_

I panic. There are cars speeding by at this time, most of them filled with foolish young men who decided it was a good idea to drive while being heavily intoxicated.

The road comes right off a shady bar and the drunk drivers were not doing a very well job of hiding that fact. They are swerving to say the least, but in a time like this, I had no chance to take a breath and stop till they pass by.

My feet carry me off at speed quicker than I have ever run before, but time seems to be stuck in slow motion. I pass by the road and run straight into the woods, which is conveniently the best place to hide.

The loud sound of leaves crunching seem to last for a considerable distance, at least in my head. I stop to catch my breath, but I can't breathe.

When my movement stops, the crunching doesn't. The footsteps stopped right after mine, but not fast enough. Point is, though whoever it was, is trying to convince me I was alone, I knew I wasn't.

I twist my feet and angle them in such a way that I step on the bare ground, where my motions could not be heard. I turn around the trees, but after a few steps, my foot dips down in a river, or lake of the sort.

I hug the tree desperately and slowly lower myself down, trying not to make a loud and possibly very evident splash.

But the footsteps resume. By now, it doesn't matter if I know, the only thing that matters is that the precious prey does not escape the grasp of a very vicious and determined predator.

The sound of dried fallen leaves being crushed only becomes louder and closer and I harshly bite down on my lower lip to prevent any noises to escape from my terrified self.

I gasp for air as I start to taste blood, but I open my eyes to a much different scenario.

I jerk up and try to calm my freakishly loud breathing.

"It's okay. You're safe here," an oddly familiar masculine voice comes from behind me.

It was truly a strange feeling, to recognize something, anything. That alone was foreign to me.

I glance over my shoulder to see the kind man, which I guess was what I was going to refer to him as until I knew his name, who had just saved my life.

But the words he said, they could never be true. Safety is a theoretical thought we tell ourselves to keep our sanity, but it could never exist.

The house you call a home could burst to flames due to a candle you set out to freshen up the place. That was originally 'safe' wasn't it?

A kid could just walk out the school. Their house would be right across the road, so it's safe for them to walk home, right? But then as they were about to reach their driveway, a man reached out and grabbed them. That child would never fell the warmth of a hug or see the glistening of a mother's smile again.

Safety is simply an abstract part of our world of imaginations. We tell people they are safe to not only fool them but to trick ourselves so that we are not scared every second of the day.

But I didn't feel like speaking, or arguing, so I simply nodded in response and stared down at the hoodie that was previously loaned to me. "I have to use to bathroom," I squeaked, barely being able to find my voice.

"Oh. Right, follow me." The kind man said and stood up from his kneeling position beside me.

The bathroom was small, I suppose, but I didn't spend too much time taking in the details. Right after I had shut the door, I just took my time to look at myself, not in a conceited way, but out of pure curiosity.

My hair was a dark raven black, as dark as the cold unforgiving night. My eyes were a warm shade of brown, with a ring of black on the outside.

My lip was slightly busted and bleeding, but for what reason, I could not remember. Other than that, my face was in fairly decent shape.

I look down to the black hoodie the kind man had given me. It has a huge pink logo on it reading R5, which I suppose would be a band he was in to.

I wrapped my fingers under the hem of the jacket, and prepared myself for the worst. Considering how much pain I was in, I doubt my arms are in perfect condition.

As I slowly lift the dark article of clothing above my head, I squeeze my eyes shut, silently praying to a god I don't know, wishing that somehow I'm just imagining the pain, and I'm perfectly fine. Maybe I could even wake up from this hell like nightmare.

But I did not wake up, or at least have not woken up yet, and my injuries were not a figment of my imagination. The clothes I am wearing beneath the hoodie are ripped up. My shirt is so torn up it probably couldn't even pass off as a shirt anymore. It once was white, at least it looks like it was, but now it was a nasty off-white. In places, there were patches of dark redish-brown, probably blood.

The shorts I am wearing is ripped up too, but it really isn't as noticeable.

My wrists had large purple bruises on them. The bruises looked in the shape of fingers, like someone had been forcefully trying to keep me still.

I had large cut marks up and down my arms. There were even a few on my stomach.

My legs were cut up too. And like my arms, bruises spotted my legs. My knees had large scraps on them; the kind you see when you skid on the road after crashing your bike.

The picture of myself had started to cloud up and turn blurry. My eyes were filling with tears, but not because of the wounds that had been inflicted on me. It was because even though I was looking in the mirror, it did not feel like I was seeing me. For the person that was staring back at me was just a stranger. I was just a stranger.

I pressed my back up against the cold wall and let my legs go weak. I slide down to the ground and hugged my knees, knocking something in the process, which created a loud thud.

And for the first time that I could remember, I let my emotions show. Tears poured from my eyes, and loud sobs escaped from my mouth.

The door creaked open, but I refused to look up. I was expressing a moment of weakness, one I would rather not share.

As I'm staring down at the cold white tiles, I notice a pair of feet stop right beside me. "Are you okay?" The kind man says worriedly.

I don't know what came over me, but I guess I was just in such a vulnerable state that I had become willing to share.

"I can't remember." I whisper-yell, mainly at me more than him.

"What?" He asks, looking down at me with his caring eyes.

"Everything! My life, my family, what happened to me, even myself!" I gesture to my body, pale and covered with marks.

"It will come back to you, sooner or later." he says, and pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me.

"I'm not strong enough for this." I admit, not only to him, but to myself. For these past few days of complete confusion and running, I've been trying to convince everyone I was. But I'm only strong on the surface, not all the way through. I look away, not wanting to see disappointment in his eyes.

"You don't have to be right now," he said putting his hand under my chin and lifting my head up so I'd look him in the eye. "It's okay to be weak; it's okay if you're not okay. You don't have to put on a mask and act like you are."

"I have to though. I feel like it's the only way I can survive through this chaos. Strength might just be the only thing I have left."

"You can survive. You might be in the dark right now, but light will come." He said softly.

"How do you know?" The tears had slowed down by now, but not much.

"Because now you have me. I'll be you're strength." I let my head fall down and snuggle into his chest. "For now you can be weak, and let it all out. Don't bottle in your emotions. You don't have to act okay around me."

"Thank you,"

"Riker. My name is Riker." I weakly smile, tears still slowly falling down my cheeks. His grip around me tightens, but not like he was trying to harm me. It was in more of a protective kind of way, and although I didn't believe in safety, maybe it could be possible with him.

* * *

 ** _I do not own R5 or Austin and Ally._**

 **1,534 words before A/N.**

 **Reviews are appreciated. I would love to hear how you guys think I can improve. Tell me if you guys like this plot so far?**

 **Next chapter should come out within the next few days depending on how many reviews I get.**

 _ **-wordsempowerus**_


	3. Chapter 3: Kill?

_Chapter Three:_

 _Kill? is a Four-Letter Word_

I put my fist in front of my face and slowly extend my fingers. Twisting my hand around so I could view the front and back.

It was coated with a dark red liquid. I knew enough to guess it was blood, but who it belonged to, I had no clue.

Both of my hands had blood on them, but I don't remember where it came from.

A sharp pain shot through the back of my head, and my eyes widened. I jerked my hand up to reach the spot, and instantly sighed in relief. The blood wasn't mine.

But that feeling only lasted for a moment, because now I was wondering whose it actually was. I couldn't have killed someone, could I?

That question was pounding in the back of my mind, but an answer never presented itself. It was right there, like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I could not form it into any words.

In fact, I couldn't receive answers to any of the questions that were swirling around.

Where was I?

Why was I here?

Why did I pass out?

And more importantly, who am I?

It was like I had been heavily drunk my entire life, to the point where no memories could be formed.

I took a moment, or probably longer, to just sit there, staring off into the deep night, and taking in my surroundings. It was my only hope of getting any recollection of my existence.

The area had a moldy smell, like expired food, or even sewage. Also, there was a whiff of alcohol. I glanced to my side and noticed the source, a trash can which was filled to the brim mostly with empty glass bottles, but was accompanied with food wrappers and the such.

I was leaning against a brick wall, which was covered with graffiti. Some of it was kind of neat, but the most was rather inappropriate.

It seemed to be a shady alley way. The most looking around did, was creep me out. This was probably a good place to get away with murder.

I shook off the thought and decided my time was probably better spent elsewhere. I extended my legs, in an attempt to stand up, but my knees gave out and it wasn't long before I was back to the way I was before.

I repeated my previous endeavor, but this time I supported myself by leaning against the wall. Before I left, however, I slide off the thin jacket I had been wearing. I whip my bloody hands off and toss the evidence into the trash bin.

It was best not to be accused of anything when there was still a slim chance I was innocent. Besides, the crime was still unknown.

I stumbled along, probably looking like I was drunk, which was kind of suited my surroundings.

As I twisted the corner, I noticed motorcycles lined up. There was an odd substance on the ground beside them, which was probably vomit.

Also, there was loud yelling and fists flying. Two men where fighting, both of which only could speak slurred words. They kept stumbling backwards, which actually worked to each of their benefit. It oddly enough helped them dodge the punches, but not all of them. They were both very much drunk.

I was beside a bar. Had my accident been due to a similar bar fight?

There was something out of place, though. One man. He was leaning against the corner off the old building, staring off and ignoring the evidently pointless brawl occurring not five feet from him.

He was wearing all black, and had a hoodie draped over his head. His eyes kept dodging around, looking for something or, perhaps, someone.

That was until his eyes locked with mine, and after that everything became a confusing blur. He burst out into a full speed sprint. His target, me. Adrenaline flowing through my body I seemed to forget the pain and was able to move without having something to lean on.

After that, he acted as if he was my shadow. Every turn I took, he took. Every path I ran down, he followed suit.

Step by step, turn by turn, every building we passed by was just a little closer to him catching me. He even matched his steps up with mine, so I couldn't actually tell if he continued in his journey to catch me.

I did know one thing, however, my weak legs could only carry me for so much longer before they gave out again.

I gasped. I knew it was just a dream, well, memory, but the thought still scared me. He could still be out there, looking for me, and it wouldn't be long before he found me.

I blinked a couple of times, adjusting my eyes to the blaring lights. I was laying down on the couch, similarly to the previous night.

I did not sit up this time, for the room was filled with voices that I did not recognize. Perhaps it was not best to trust Riker. Or what if I had been found?

Either way, I attempted to keep the fact that I was awake unknown.

"Why is she still here Riker?" A masculine voice spoke. So he knows Riker.. "She could be a crazed fan for all we know!"

Wait, fan of what exactly?

"Stop freaking out Rocky! She didn't even recognize me, so I highly doubt she is a fan." Riker commented.

So, what? He is famous?

"She might be a good actor though," a feminine voice added.

"Well, when I met her she was drowning, and I doubt a fan would go to that extent. And even if they did, it was pitch black outside, she would not of seen who I was until I was actually standing in front of her." Riker said, starting to sound annoyed at the conversation.

"What if she is a criminal? Because for all we know, she could be!" A different masculine voice spoke up.

"Ross has a point, Riker, we don't know anything about this girl. She could just be using this as a safe house!" Rocky, I think is his name, said.

"It is a good way to escape police. I mean we are in a tour bus, driving miles from where we picked her up. It was also at a place without cameras. The police will never be able to find her." Another male continued.

Someone sighed after that comment, sounding like they had become frustrated. I could not tell who it was, however, because the group was not in my sight.

"Do you guys remember Ashley?" Riker started, the room all of the sudden got silent. It sounded like a sensitive subject. "She would be here right now, with us. But everyone who drove by her were too scared to stop and help her. She told everyone how she was being followed. No one listened. They just drove on because they feared the reason why she was. She was raped and left to die, but she didn't die that quickly. She was lost and needed guidance, which she was not given quick enough. So she died, waiting for help that would never come."

He paused before continuing, "We would still have our friend if people were not too quick to judge. That's why she's here, okay? We're just giving her a few days, and then we'll contact the police. Besides, she isn't in good enough shape to do any of us any harm."

"That's fine by me." The only female in the group spoke, attempting to change the subject. She sounded sad, and I don't blame her. The event was tragic and depressing; I can only imagine how it would be for someone who actually knew the person.

Coming to the conclusion that none of them would hurt me, I slowly sat up, acting as if I had just woken up.

Riker cleared his throat and walked over to my side. "Good morning," he said.

I nodded not really sure if I agree with his statement.

"Well I'd like you to meet my siblings and good friend."

I looked over to the group that had just been talking. All of them were strangers, which really is not a surprise. Most people are to me.

There were four guys, two blondes and two brunets, and a blonde girl. The youngest guy spoke up first, "I'm Ryland."

"I'm Ross" the older blonde. He looked kind of like a younger version of Riker. His hair looked messy, and was also pushed to the side of his face.

"I'm Rocky," one of the brunets said. He had longer hair than the other, with it falling about at his shoulders.

"I'm Rydel," the girl said. She had long blonde wavy hair.

"And I'm the family friend, Ellington Ratliff, but most people just call me Ratliff." The other brunet said. He's hair was fairly short, stopping just above the ear.

I nodded in response, not quite sure what to say considering I do not know my own name. "Uh.. It's nice to meet you all.." I mumbled, my voice sounding weak and strained.

I had barely paid attention to the room before know. It had two sort of couches sitting across from each other. It was a semi-large room considering it on a RV. There was also a large TV on the wall.

After that everyone sat down on the couches, me being awkwardly at the very end of the couch and avoiding eye contact. Riker was the one sitting next to me, which I suppose made it a little better.

The atmosphere, though, was very pleasant. Everyone was joking around, and you could tell they all cared a lot about each other.

It was a really strange sight, everyone messing around with each other and not worrying about anything else in that moment.

I wonder if there was a point in my life where I've been as peaceful as this group of people. Maybe I even had people who cared about me, perhaps a family.

But that frightened me, because even though I envied this small tight knit group of people, I actually feared that there was someone out there, waiting for me. They could be scared to death right now, and I did not wish that on anyone. So that question bugged me more than anything.

Is there someone out there waiting for me to return?

* * *

 ** _I do not own R5 or Austin and Ally._**

 **Why did she have blood on her hands?**

 **Why was she being chased?**

 **Answers will come soon enough.**

 **In case you did not notice, the flashbacks are in reverse order. It's now up to date on how much she remembers.**

 **Also, I'm going to start responding to your reviews, so if you have any questions, just ask! :)**

 _ **Ash:**_ **Thank you! :) And yes Raura will be Ross+Laura. But remember that will just be a minor relationship. The main will be with the OC (who will later receive a name) and one of the other brothers.**


	4. Chapter 4 UPDATE!

So... I was looking through my account and remembered this story. I can't believe it's been practicall 2 years since I made this

anyway, i really liked this idea, I just don't think it is at the level I want it to be.

If you were wondering, this is not a new chapter. But, I might rewrite this and actually finish it. Details might change and what not. I don't really know yet.

So, if you are interested, please let me know.


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